I've gotten out of the swing of writing. And by writing, I mean fiction and/or poetry. Mostly I haven't had the time, but now that classes have started again, I have my daily trip to la-la land and start jotting down things in the margins of notes (next to the doodles—god, I'm such a great student. How exactly have I managed to do so well in school? Regardless, I got a 7.5 out of 10 on my essay test last week, and the teacher commented how I'm doing better than most of the other students who actually tested into the class, as opposed to me who asked to be moved up). So today after lunch, I braved the pouring rain and below 40 degree weather for a trip to the paperie, where they sell paper, notebooks, folders, stickers, and other assorted school-related supplies. I bought a notebook (with proper, horizontal-only lines) and a folder for all the loose papers I'm having to drag about. And because I couldn't resist, I bought a pack of glittery kitten stickers.I do miss my kitty.
I also found my favorite crêpe ever. It's got butter, sugar, and cinnamon, and tastes like ambrosia (nectar of the Gods, not the alcoholic stuff from BSG). Unfortunately, there's a creepy guy who kept hitting on me and not leaving me alone who works there, but I hope he's finally gotten the point that I'm not interested. Today he didn't try to corner me, which is good, but I also went in a group of kids, so that might've been it. I've sworn to myself never to go to that particular deli unless I'm with other kids. But the crêpe—best. ever. The dough was perfect, not too crispy and not too soft, with a nice squishy texture. The filling—I was seriously licking the wrapping where the butter/sugar/cinnamon mix had escaped. People on the metro were looking at me weird, but in my defense, I'm not was weird as the random mentally-ill who show up on metros shouting random phrases and/or sounds at the top of their llungs repeatedly.
But the writing! I intend to start back at that. And awhile ago (first or second post) someone (Laura?) commented that they'd like to read some of my poems. Well, you'll have to ask my parents for that. They have copies of them but I'm not posting my personal writing online, because there is the slim hope of one day getting published. Or if you want, leave your email address in a comment, and I'll send you one or two.
Tomorrow is Halloween. It's not really celebrated here, but I know a lot of the other AIFS kids are planning various activies for the holiday. I have no clue what I'll be doing, if anything. The weather forecast is cold and rainy which usually results in my retreating inside for a brief hibernation. But we'll see. I think I might finally be getting the hang of bundling up in a proper cold-weather-region fashion. Everyone laughs at me being the poor frozen Southern girl, but once you live in heat, you rarely go back (those who do have screws loose).
Hard to believe it's almost November. And that I've been here for over six weeks. Everyone else here leaves in mid-December; is it bad that I'm so glad to be staying the year? Three months is not enough time. I'm not rushed to do anything or experience everything, and I'm not just now getting used to life here only to have to brace myself for leaving shortly. A visit home will be nice though. I'll be back in the States sometime 21 decembre, and leave the 2 janvier, I think.
"Mais les yeux sont aveugles. Il faut chercher avec le coeur."
"Si tu viens, par exemple, à quatre heures de l'après-midi, dès trois heures, je commencerai d'être heureuse." -Le Petit Prince
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